


Suddenly Standing

by DizzyRedhead



Series: 1000 Follower Giveaway Fics [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Magical Accidents, Meet-Cute, Mildly Dubious Consent, Selkies, Tumblr Prompt, magical coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: Derek was just trying to pick up the coat he tripped over, but magic doesn't care.





	Suddenly Standing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MelikaElena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelikaElena/gifts).



> For MelikaElena/marry-me-zack-jimmermann, who won a prompt as part of my 1000 Follower Giveaway; my apologies to them and everyone else who is still waiting for their fic, as life has been especially hectic lately, but I haven't forgotten!
> 
> To clarify the "Mildly Dubious Consent" and "Magical Coercion" tags, Dex is a selkie, Nursey accidentally picks up his coat and hands it back to him, not realizing that will basically make them married, or at least engaged. [Original concept from this Tumblr post](http://melika-elena.tumblr.com/post/170401264469/howtobangyourmonster-kurara-black-blog).
> 
> Title from [ because I'm a sap.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r0SocbXEal8>)

“Oops,” Nursey’s arms windmill as he trips over something soft on the floor of the dining hall. Thankfully he manages to catch himself before he faceplants on the floor, because a, it’s probably super gross, and b, he’s actually trying to make a good impression on the Samwell team. The last thing he needs is for them to look at his clumsiness and write him off before they ever see him skate.

And okay, he knows the scouts have come to his games at Andover, and that’s not going to happen. But try convincing his dumbass brain of this shit. Anxiety is  _ great. _

Once he’s upright again, he takes a deep breath, trying to regain at least the smallest, tiniest bit of chill. Thank fuck he was on his way to get food and not coming back from it, or his lunch would be spread across everyone nearby. So he’s got that going for him, which is nice.

Glancing down at his feet to double-check that the path is actually clear, he sees the object that started all the trouble--someone’s coat is just lying there. Someone’s fur coat, actually. 

Look, Derek tries not to judge--so he usually fails, so sue him. But it’s practically spring. Sure, the New England weather is variable as fuck, sure, there was some kind of mini-blizzard last week, but it’s practically balmy today. This isn’t fucking Siberia. This is a prospective student orientation. Who the fuck shows up to college with a fur coat?

Still, if Derek tripped over it, someone else probably will. He picks it up and starts to drape it over the chair it presumably belongs to, stopping mid-motion when the person seated in the chair twists around and meets his gaze.

“You, uh, dropped your coat?” Derek says. It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, but he gets a little caught up in the wide, golden-brown eyes that meet his, in the softness of the fur under his fingers. “It’s hella soft, bro; I’d hate for someone to step on it.”

When Derek’s focus widens, he realizes that the reason those wide, suspicious eyes look familiar is because this guy was on the tour with him earlier. Between the freckles, the flaming red hair, and the adorable way his ears stick out, there’s no mistaking it. Shit. Time for a strategic retreat.

“See ya,” he says, hoping it comes out calm and not panicked, and continues on his way to get lunch. 

By the time he’s loaded his tray with the least unappetizing choices--honestly, the food looks more than half-decent compared to Andover, but that’s not saying much, and it’s still dining hall food--he’s had time to talk himself down. Mostly. 

It helps that the kid from California--Chow, he thinks--has engaged the super cute redhead in conversation, chattering away like he did the whole time they were touring Faber. But even though the redhead--why can’t Derek remember his name?--seems to be paying attention, he still keeps sneaking little glances at Derek. Like he’s trying to remember the clumsy asshole who tripped over his coat.

It’s super awkward.

Derek finds a spot at the table, as far away as he can without it looking like he’s running away, and devotes all his attention to his lunch. All he has to do is get through the rest of today and tomorrow without pissing off the redhead any more.

Easy, right?

* * *

When he hears the knock on his door, Derek gives serious consideration to not getting up. Their mock-scrimmage that afternoon with some members of the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team was one of the hardest, most physical experiences of his life, and he is sore as fuck right now. 

To be fair, it had also been the most fun he’s had playing hockey in like, ever, if he’s being honest. Whatever awkwardness there’d been between him and Poindexter--Dex, he reminds himself--it had seemed to melt away once they stepped onto the ice. Derek hasn’t ever played that well with another d-partner. It was like they could read each other’s minds, like he knew where Dex would be without looking. He didn’t want it to stop

The knock comes again, pulling him back to the present, and he groans as he sits up. If he’s this sore tonight, he’d better take some ibuprofen and a cold shower before bed, maybe some muscle balm too, or he’ll be having trouble moving in the morning. “Coming,” he calls, getting to his feet and heading for the door. 

Whoever it is, they’re probably looking for someone else, but they’re going to have to deal with him only wearing a pair of basketball shorts, because he doesn’t even want to think about the muscles associated with putting a shirt on. Ibuprofen is definitely in order.

The last person he expects to see when he opens the door is Dex, looking simultaneously shy and petulant as he shifts from foot to foot. Despite the fact that Dex must be at least as sore as Derek, he’s fully dressed, wearing a flannel so clean that Derek can smell the fresh detergent scent, crisp jeans, and work boots that he’d swear weren’t that shiny this morning.

“Uh, hi,” he says when he realizes he’s been staring. “‘Sup?”

“Can I come in?” Dex asks, his eyes darting around everywhere but Derek’s.

He shakes his head, trying to clear out the confusion. “Chyeah, sure. Mi casa es su casa, et cetera.”

Dex blinks a couple of times at that, but when Derek steps back to let him in, he walks through the door, closing it behind him and biting his lip.

“What’s up, man?” Derek asks, crossing the room to sit on the dorm bed. Maybe some space between them will help Dex feel calmer. 

“I--” Dex trails off with a noise of frustration that’s almost a growl, raking a hand through his hair. His left hand, actually; his right hand is slightly behind his body like it has been since Derek opened the door. 

Dex closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. In the light of the dorm room, they look darker than they did at lunch, a warm, liquid brown without the gold lights Derek remembers. “I called my parents,” he says abruptly.

“Cool?” Derek ventures, when nothing else seems to be forthcoming. 

“No, I--” Dex swallows and meets Derek’s eyes for the first time. “They said I should give you this.”

He crosses the room until he’s standing in front of Derek, thrusting his right hand in front of him. On his open palm sits a small black velvet box.

For lack of anything better to do, Derek takes it, since it seems like Dex might stand there forever if he doesn’t. “Um, thanks?”

Dex just gives him an impatient look, so he opens it, his breath catching in spite of himself. Inside, nestled against the black velvet and glinting in the light, is a simple gold band, the same warm gold as Dex’s eyes earlier. The only decoration is two small pearls, nestled inside an infinity symbol.

“I--I can’t accept this,” Derek stammers. There’s something going on here that he doesn’t know about, something that he missed. It’s like those first days at Andover all over again, all the little in-jokes and customs that he kept tripping over like they had physical presence. He can feel the panic rising in his throat. “I appreciate--”

When he looks up, Dex looks--resigned? Shit, what the fuck is going on? “I told them,” he says, almost tiredly. “I told them it was a mistake, that you wouldn’t want--but they said we should be married by human customs, too.”

“Hold up,” Derek says, his fingers closing automatically on the little box when Dex reaches for it. “Married? Human? Dude, what the fuck?”

“You saw my cloak,” Dex says, like that’s an explanation. “You gave it back to me. I told them it was a mistake, that you didn’t mean it like that, that you wouldn’t want me, but they’re so traditional--”

He spits the word like it’s a curse, an indictment, and it’s almost, almost enough to distract Derek from what he said before. “You mean your coat? Dude, I just picked it up off the floor.”

“I know that,” Dex says, rolling his eyes. It shouldn’t be cute, but somehow it is. “But apparently, even if it was just lost on the floor, giving back a lost cloak is like, automatic selkie marriage. It’s so fucking archaic. I hate magic.”

Derek is suddenly incredibly grateful that he was already sitting down. “Magic,” he repeats weakly. “Bro, did I hit my head during that scrimmage? Am I hallucinating?”

Dex stares at him, eyes wide. “You don’t know? How can you not know?”

“I don’t know!” Derek shoots back, all the uncertainty and anxiety manifesting as a flash of anger. “Nobody ever told me anything about magic! What the fuck? Did you say selkie? Like the seal people in the legends?”

Dex groans, sitting down next to him on the bed. “Fuck. Yeah, basically. Just my luck to get mated to some lander who doesn’t know shit.”

“Mated?” Derek repeats. “Wait, wait, what--”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Dex says impatiently. “It doesn’t care what we want. It just does its thing. So now, unless we can find someone to dissolve it, you’ve got a husband. Congrats. I don’t make the rules.”

Derek blinks at him. “I need to sit down.”

“You are sitting down,” Dex retorts, but his tone softens. “You really didn’t know?”

“Dude, I thought you were wearing a fur coat to a campus tour,” Derek says, his head spinning as he tries to figure out what’s happened. “Are you sure  _ you’re _ not hallucinating?”

“Unless I hallucinated all eighteen years of my life,” Dex says, huffing out a laugh. “You couldn’t have seen my coat if you weren’t magic, too. Didn’t anybody teach you how not to get yourself accidentally married, or eaten, or worse?”

Derek blinks rapidly as he tries to process this, but his brain is basically just one blue screen of death, except for the part that’s trying to figure out what’s worse than being eaten. “I’m what? I’m not--okay, we’ll come back to that. For now, can we focus on how we know you’re not hallucinating?”

Dex rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. “Fine, let’s get it over with.”

Derek would have sworn that Dex wasn’t wearing the fur coat when he came in the room, but suddenly there it is, in his hands. He swirls it around his shoulders with a flourish that Derek frankly wasn’t expecting--

\--and then, where Dex was standing, there’s a seal. An actual, honest-to-fuck seal, in the middle of his dorm. Derek blinks, rubs his eyes, but what he’s seeing doesn’t change.

“Dex?” he whispers.

The seal looks at him with familiar, dark eyes, and nods its head, an unmistakably human gesture. It--Dex--is a pale brown, spotted with darker brown much like the freckles on Dex’s skin, and Derek’s hand is reaching out to touch before he can think better of it.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling his hand back. 

Seal-Dex makes an impatient noise and nudges his head under Derek’s hand. The fur is a familiar texture, soft and just a little slick and unmistakably real. If this is a hallucination, it's the most realistic one ever. 

“Okay,” Derek says weakly. “You’re a seal.”

Even though he’s watching more closely this time, he doesn’t see it happening. One second, there’s the seal, the next Dex is standing in front of him, offering the coat.

“It’s yours now,” he says sulkily. “If you want me, you keep it, and I’m human. If not, you give it back, and I’m gone.”

Every line of his body screams his discomfort, his fingers clenched in the coat like he wants to snatch it back, clutch it to his chest. Derek studies him for a long moment, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Because, like, he’s eighteen? Magic or no magic, that’s way too young to be getting married. 

But he doesn’t want Dex gone, either. He wants them to come to Samwell, to play incredible hockey together. Maybe, sometime in the future, to know each other well enough that the ring is a thing they can talk about. Surprisingly, he doesn’t entirely hate the idea.

“We’re way too young to be married,” he says finally.

Dex huffs out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing down a little away from his ears. “Dude. I  _ know. _ ”

“But ‘gone’ sounds so permanent,” Derek continues. “What if we try a date?”

“A date?” Dex repeats, searching Derek’s face. “Why?”

Derek shrugs. “Seems like a good idea? I’m not opposed to the whole marriage thing in general, just, why rush into it? So whaddya say, Poindexter? Wanna go on a date?”

Dex studies him for a long, endless moment. Derek fights not to hold his breath, tries his best to look like possible future husband material, whatever the fuck that means. 

“Yeah,” Dex says finally. “Let’s do that.”

He tries to offer Derek the coat again, but doesn’t protest when Derek pushes it gently back into his hands.

“Keep it,” he says, daring to take one of Dex’s hands instead. “It looks better on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This could easily have ballooned into a whole slow burn series (and may at some point in the future) but right now we're going to leave them at this hopeful juncture. If you enjoyed reading this, I would really appreciate a comment saying so! And if you, like other people, are interested in knowing how Derek is magic, you can read my headcanons [here](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/168320435).
> 
> I'm not posting fic as frequently as I have in the past because I'm trying to build up a career writing original fiction so I can escape my Evil Day Job. If you like dumb hockey boys falling in love, [you can find my author blog here](http://ariel-bishop.tumblr.com). Or you can [follow my main Tumblr here](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com).


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